


When a Wisp Becomes a Warrior

by diphylleia_grayi



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, Genderswap, Minor Character Death, Shinto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 21:56:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14923553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diphylleia_grayi/pseuds/diphylleia_grayi
Summary: A wisp of a woman. Obedient and dutiful only because she has no other choice. So docile and subdued because she wishes to be overlooked. A weakling. A truly pathetic little girl.Hikaru despises her.





	When a Wisp Becomes a Warrior

Hikaru has lost a little weight, but the hakama is tied securely enough around his waist that it’s unlikely to slip out of place. The bellowing fabric brushes against his ankles, and the five pleats at the front are asymmetrical - as they should be. Grandmother only accepts perfection, and Hikaru provides nothing less.

Tucked into the hakama is the kosode - a simple, loose-fitting robe with a large collar. Over the kosode, the haori is worn. It is an open jacket, long enough to reach his thighs, with the lapels loosely held together by a pair of ties - himo.

His bride, too, is dressed traditionally. She drowns beneath the elaborately embroidered satin folds of the shiromuku, her face so small beneath the white hood known as wataboshi. She keeps her eyes downcast, offering him only a shy smile when they meet for the first time.

His grandmother had planned the entirety of the event. Hikaru has no interest in marriage - has never had any interest in it. But grandmother will soon pass away, and she curls her lips at the thought of leaving her fortune to one who has not yet provided heirs. She had selected Hikaru’s bride - a gentle soul from a reasonably wealthy family. The only family willing to accept Saionji Hikaru, because even as the heir of the Saionji clan, no one truly cares for him.

Hikaru has only ever trusted his father. He shouldn’t have done that. Even his father has left him now, his spirit already waiting in another realm for his hag of a grandmother. Hikaru is grateful to his grandmother, of course. She’d taken good care of him for most of his life. Hikaru just wishes things had been… easier.

As expected, his grandmother has done a wonderful job today. She’d chosen for him the same shrine that she herself had been married at, and the priest is one who knows the family well. The Saionji family are present, as are the Fujisaki family. There are few guests present: some colleagues of his grandmother, and on the Fujisaki side, some members of the disgraced Ishimaru family.

Ishimaru. The name of the man that had created one of the country’s greatest political scandals. Hikaru hopes for his family’s sake that his bride’s family are discreet regarding this particular connection.

Hikaru’s grandmother treasures the country’s traditions, and all of them play a role today. First comes the ritual of purification, then blessings from the kami - the gods - of the shrine. From that follows the vows.

Hikaru does not trust his wife, meek as she looks, to keep her vows. He knows better than to trust anyone. He had learned that the hard way. He wife may do as she likes, just as he himself shall. This marriage, just like anything done in the Saionji family, is for the sake of security. He expects nothing more from this.

After the exchange of vows is the san san kudo: the exchange of cups, to symbolise what has just taken place. Hikaru and his bride drink sake from three different cups. To seal the bond between the families, his bride’s parents and his own grandmother does the same.

Three sips from each cup, to represent the three couples partaking in the ritual. The first three represents the three couples; the second three the flaws of hatred, passion, and ignorance; the third the freedom from these three flaws.

The families are united. Now an offering is made to the kami: two tamagushi, one from the bride and one from the groom. The tamagushi are made from two branches from the sacred tree, decorated with streamers called shide.

The cleyera japonica, Hikaru thinks idly, is the scientific name for the sacred sakaki trees. An evergreen tree reaching up to ten metres tall, its scented cream-white blossoms growing into berries that darken from red to black. The sakaki’s beauty isn’t overwhelming like that of the hill cherry, but rather simple. Understated.

Like his bride, Hikaru supposes. Unremarkable in every way, with a face and body as lamblike as her personality. Not at all like the people his grandmother keeps around herself. She must have been truly desperate to choose this wisp of a woman as his bride.

A wisp of a woman. Obedient and dutiful only because she has no other choice. So docile and subdued because she wishes to be overlooked. A weakling. A truly pathetic little girl.

Hikaru despises her.

The ceremony draws to a close. His bride leaves his side, returning to the reception in a kimono worn beneath a beautiful red uchikake - a coat of sorts, heavily brocaded, the hem of the silk robe trailing along the floor behind her. Atop her head is a tsunokakushi - traditional headwear made of white silk. She is… very short. Almost an entire foot shorter than him. He wonders how old she is.

This is the part of the day that Hikaru has dreaded the most. Appearing comfortable, thankful, happy, when he feels anything but… It disgusts him. Hikaru hates to be deceived, and he would love to return the favour to all those gathered here today. But his grandmother is watching. He does not step out of line.

Both he and his wife have chosen to acknowledge the pair responsible for their upbringing with a letter of thanks. Flowers would be thrown away, and he has nothing good to mention in a toast to his grandmother.

His grandmother has chosen to distribute folding fans as wedding favours - a fitting gift from a family best known for its illustrious traditional dancers. Hikaru glimpses the gifts brought for him and his wife, all beautifully secured with mizuhiki knots. Nothing but traditional gifts, Hikaru notes. Nothing that is meant for one who is loved - at least, not from his side of the family.

Hikaru expects nothing else. He simply grits his teeth and bears through it, until the reception finally, finally draws to a close.

His wife had disappeared just after the meal, whisked away by his grandmother’s assistants to change into yet another outfit. It is almost time to toast the guests when she finally returns.

She has changed into a pale pink evening dress, only a few shades warmer than her fair skin tone. Her pale brown hair has been taken out of its high bun, her soft curls now pinned back with a pearly hair vine. Her eyes are hazel, Hikaru realises.

She looks like a doll. Unfortunately, the beauty of a doll doesn’t change how breakable it is.

Hikaru has no interest in going on a honeymoon, and his wife seems to be of the same opinion. Unfortunately, his grandmother wants to see the beginning of another generation of the Saionji clan before she passes away.

That evening, their car arrives at a luxurious ryokan - a traditional inn - located on the grounds of a former imperial residence. As the driver moves their luggage to their room, Hikaru leaves his new wife to wander around the complex alone. The ryokan offers some of the finest hot springs in the region, he is told. He will return there the next evening.

The restaurant is in the oldest building on the complex, and it prides itself on its kaiseki - haute cuisine multi-course dinners. Hikaru has not had much of an appetite lately, but he does not fancy the idea of going to bed on an empty stomach. Especially now that he shares a room.

It’s not long until his wife finds him. She has changed into a long-sleeved chiffon dress, her damp hair partially up to keep the loose strands out of her face. Her hands are clasped together, her sandal-clad feet pointed slightly inwards, her smile diffident as she asks him whether they could have dinner together.

Hikaru grits his teeth, looks away. “I didn’t realise that I am now obliged to do everything with you.”

His wife’s eyes widen, flicker with an emotion that makes him scowl. “I’m sorry. I won’t ask again.”

“Good,” Hikaru replies.

He finds a place far, far away from his wife. He sits alone, and anyone who dares approach him backs away as soon as they see his face.

His wife also sits alone, but it’s not long before another newlywed couple seat themselves next to her. She appears nervous at first, but something the other bride says makes her back straighten and her eyes dance, and they chatter away until the restaurant has mostly emptied. Hikaru returns to their room in silence.

There are two futons on the floor. Hikaru doubles the distance between them before he heads into the bathroom.

Hikaru has never been a fan of warm showers, and the water in the ryokan is just the right temperature. He’s careful not to spend too long there, and by the time his wife slides open the door to their room, he is curled up in his own futon, his eyes squeezed shut.

His wife is almost silent as she moves around him. He hears her close the door, discard her sandals by the entrance. She pads across the room to her suitcase, opening it with swift, careful movements, and sorts through whatever she has packed. Her dress rustles as she changes out of it, followed by her bra, and Hikaru lets one eye crack open.

What’s the problem? She’s his goddamn wife. He can look at her if he fucking wants to.

She is… tiny. Small-boned, with elfin features. Her breasts could easily be covered by the palms of his hands - not that that’s ever gonna happen. She’s currently kneeling before the suitcase, slightly hunched over as she unbuttons the long-sleeved pyjama top that she has finally located, and she is… very naked, save for her cute floral-print hiphuggers - which are definitely not cute.

Hikaru exhales into his pillow. He could very well take her to bed, since that’s what he’d been sent here to do, but… No. He wouldn’t do that. He won’t push her around according to his own selfish whims. When the time comes to produce a heir for the Saionji clan, once they’ve properly discussed it - Hikaru blanches at the thought - then… perhaps. But right now? Definitely not.

A week passes like this. When they return to the family home, they are greeted by a white paper lantern.

The wake is a quiet affair. His wife has no more smiles or words to offer him, but she plays her role well. The dutiful, mourning wife of the heir of the Saionji clan - the heir, who must now step forward to lead them all into the future. Hikaru is a child no longer, and a small part of him is grateful that his docile wife stands behind him. It is not a burden he is ready to shoulder.

The funeral takes place the next day. His grandmother receives a new kaimyo - a new name, to prevent her from returning when her name is called. No doubt her name will be called often over the next few months.

His wife sits opposite him at the crematorium, her black kimono tucked neatly around her. Using chopsticks, they separate his grandmother’s bones from the ashes, placing them carefully inside the urn. The ashes are shared between the family and the temple.

For many days afterwards, his grandmother’s urn sits on the shrine in the family home. While Hikaru bears the burden of leading the clan, his wife takes on the burden of holding the home together. Whenever he finds time to return to his grandmother’s side, he finds the incense sticks burning and the flowers blooming. His wife keeps her head bowed; she never sees the nods of acknowledgement he sends her way.

The Saionji clan have a family grave. His grandmother’s name was engraved on the stone a long time ago, when her husband passed away, painted red to mark that she survived him. The paint has been washed away.

They observe all the traditional memorial services, since grandmother would accept nothing less. Then the period of mourning comes to an end, and Hikaru straightens his back. His grandmother’s face stares at him from beside the shrine, her lips pursed in grim acknowledgement.

He is the leader of the Saionji clan. There is no room for weakness in his heart.

The door slides open behind him, and his wife takes one step into the room before spotting him. She bows her head.

“Thank you for your hard work,” Hikaru says.

His wife looks up, her eyes widening a fraction. “I have done what I can to support you during these difficult times,” she says, her voice wavering a little when she addresses him. “Please let me know if there is anything more I can do.”

So stiff. So formal. Hikaru’s parents had been the same way, but his father… He’d loved his wife, and he’d loved his son too, even though his son had ripped her to pieces on his way into the world.

His father was a good man. A kind man. Hikaru’s grandmother had deemed him a bad influence, taken Hikaru away from his father to be raised properly. An heir worthy of taking on the role of following in the footsteps of Saionji Shinobu - that was what he had been made into, and he had been given an intelligent, yet obedient wife with whom he would produce an heir of his own.

Hikaru leads the clan. Yet he still must answer to his grandmother. Why should he do that? Wouldn’t he rather make his father proud of him? Respecting his wife, even if he can’t bring himself to love her… that is all he can do to honor his father’s memory.

Hikaru rises to his feet. “I shall tend to the shrine. Go and eat, if you haven’t already.”

His wife bows her head. She steps backwards out of the room and slides the door shut.

His wife. An unusual woman, raised in a modern family that has taught her the old traditions well. He wonders how she feels in a place like this. When he sees her later, getting ready to sleep, he tells her she is free to return to her parents’ home whenever she pleases.

Her father arrives to collect her a week later. Hikaru walks his wife to the driveway, and he is not entirely sure how to feel. His wife works from home, and the entirety of her office in her parents’ home had been moved into the Saionji home just after the wedding. The wife of the leader of the Saionji clan has no business running errands, and as such, he has not seen her dressed in modern clothes since their honeymoon. How long had been since then?

She wears a simple white blouse, paired with a cashmere cardigan and tucked into a full black skirt with a traditional floral print. When her father emerges from the car, she throws her arms around him and he embraces just as tightly. Hikaru ignores the twinge in his heart.

He hands her father the overnight bag that she had packed, and Hikaru’s wife bids him goodbye with a promise that she would return whenever she is called. He tells her that he can take care of himself, and she apologises and replies that she is aware.

The house is strangely empty without his wife. He has grown used to her reassuring presence behind him, and without her and the overbearing force of his grandmother, he finds himself feeling rather lost.

He… misses her, he realises. His wife, that is. As much as he appreciates his grandmother’s role in his life, he can manage just fine without her barking orders and curses at him. But his wife…

He has never known what it means to trust someone who waits behind him, because everyone else who had been behind him had carved curses into his back. So many curses, by so many people. What had he done wrong to make them hate him so?

His wife is… loyal. Kind. Those are words never heard in the Saionji clan, where there is only duty and respect. His wife doesn’t belong here.

He wonders what her story is, and when she returns to him a week later, he makes sure to ask her.

His wife blinks at him. “I… have no story,” she says uncertainly. “I am a child of the Fujisaki family. I have been writing computer programs since I was young, and my father and mother have always supported me in following the path I chose. There is nothing more to know about me.”

Supportive parents. Yes, his father had been supportive of his dream to become a veterinarian, but the heir of the Saionji clan has no business surrounding himself with animals. He’d thrown away that dream a long time ago, when he’d donned the traditional clothes for the first time and ground ants into dust beneath his bare feet. Animals don’t dare approach him anymore. They know, now, that there is only cruelty to be found at the hands of Saionji Hikaru.

He voices none of those thoughts. “It must have been difficult for a woman to be accepted into the industry.”

She starts, looks away with a tinge of pink staining her cheeks. “Yes. Yes, it was. I pretended to be a boy for a long time when I was younger.”

Hikaru smirks. “An infiltration? Sounds like you’ve got some backbone after all.”

She blushes deeper. His statement wasn’t a compliment so much as it had been an insult. Strange, strange woman.

“But what about your story?” she asks him. “Your family's story, I know well - but your own?”

Hikaru falls silent. Sharing his story… he'd never done that before. Still, this woman has given him no reason to mistrust her. He could share something inconsequential, he supposes. Regard it as a chance to test her loyalty.

“You already know that the Saionji clan aim to immortalise the customs and beliefs of our past. I have long since been a student of our school of music.

My first instrument was the biwa - the chosen instrument of the goddess of music. Since then, I have learned to play the koto - our country's national instrument - as well as the ichigenkin, shamisen, and yamatogoto.”

She gazes at him in awe. “That's truly amazing.”

Hikaru lets himself smile. “Yes. But music was never my true passion. The truth is… I've always wanted to be a dancer. When I was first chosen as the heir, I begged grandmother to let me perform a kami mai just once, but she never agreed.”

She thinks for a moment. “Kami mai? That's the very fast one, right? You have such high aspirations, Saionji-san.”

Hikaru laughs as he climbs into his futon. It's late, and some distant relatives are returning home. So soon after grandmother's death… he knows exactly what they want from him.

His wife draws the curtains before climbing into her own futon, her loose hair just long enough to brush against her shoulders.

“Fujisaki-san.” She looks towards him, her eyes a fraction wider. “I may aim high, but you are the one who has achieved your dreams.”

She settles down on the mattress, drawing the sheets closer as she watches him in the darkness. “Thank you, Saionji-san.”

Hikaru sighs. “Why are you thanking me, woman? All I did was state a fact.”

“I…” The sheets rustle. “I'm sorry. I'll speak more carefully from now on.”

Hikaru sits up, kicking off the sheets to place his feet on the floor. His wife, to her credit, mirrors his movements immediately.

“What is your name?” he asks her.

“Fujisaki Chihiro,”she says fearfully.

“What is my name?”

“...Saionji Hikaru.”

“What am I to you?”

“You…” She hesitates. “You are my husband.”

“A husband and wife,” Hikaru says. “Are two halves of one whole. Different, but equal. That is the relationship my father had with my mother. What about your parents, Fujisaki-san?”

“My parents are the same.”

“Then I would like us to also be the same,” Hikaru says. “You may have been born a Fujisaki, but you have fought in this world as well as a Saionji. You have strength. You have determination. You have loyalty. All of those traits, I value.”

He rises from the futon and she does the same, but she does not move as Hikaru approaches her to place good hands on her shoulders. “You are my other half. You are my equal. You are the wife of Saionji Hikaru, in the eyes of the law and in my own. Now it's your turn.”

Her head is tilted up, but she can't quite meet his eyes. “What should I do?”

He moves one hand to her chin, tilts her head up further to force her to look. “You let this world know that Saionji Hikaru's wife stands beside him. Not behind, but beside. We fight together, you and I. Do you understand?”

Her chin presses into his hand as she tries to nod. “I am your wife, and I stand beside you.”

“Good girl,” Hikaru murmurs. “You're a warrior, Fujisaki Chihiro.”

“Tomorrow,” she whispers. “I'll watch your back. I've looked into what your relatives have invested in lately, and they could provide a lot for our clan, if we accept their proposal. Of course, I trust your judgement. I think…”

She looks away, bites her lip. “I didn't know your grandmother well, but I think she is proud of you. We can seek her counsel tomorrow, if you need it.”

Hikaru looks down at this strange, strange woman. He doesn't know why his grandmother had chosen her for him, but her judgement has never been wrong. Even this one last duty, this obligation, this responsibility… It had been the correct one.

He strokes his thumb along her lower lip. She shivers, breathes out through her parted lips, and he leans forward to press his own against them.

She's… so small. So fragile. But if anyone ever tries to break her, this little warrior wouldn't go down without a fight. How blessed he is to have her as an ally.

How blessed he is to have her in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this planning to make it another chapter in my ongoing genderswap series, but then I decided otherwise. 
> 
> I'll admit I've never been a fan of Hiyoko, even though I sympathise with her, but this opened my eyes a little bit. Poor kid.


End file.
